


... And Found

by DPPatricks



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Episode Related, Gen, Ruminations, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-20 08:34:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30002178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DPPatricks/pseuds/DPPatricks
Summary: Starsky cleans out the back seat of the LTD while Hutch is recovering from the Plague.
Relationships: Ken Hutchinson/David Starsky
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	... And Found

**Author's Note:**

> This piece was inspired by the stories I read from two authors who answered a prompt on the Starsky&Hutch, the Original Bromance FaceBook page.

Why am I doing this? Why? Because I can’t think of anything else to do that will keep me close to him, I guess. I’ve cleaned his apartment. Twice! I’ve got his fridge and cabinets stocked with all the seeds and sprouts and healthy stuff he likes. I’ll check him out of the hospital tomorrow, we’ll take Judith to the airport, then I’ll bring him here. Helene has promised to provide dinner for him every night - he won’t have to think about cooking for at least a week! 

So why am I in this tiny parking lot behind Venice Place, cleaning out the back seat of his ratty ol’ LTD? They kicked me out of the hospital, that’s why. Said I couldn’t come back until official visiting hours tonight. And I got nothin’ else to do! 

Dobey said he doesn’t want to see my face until Hutch and I are back on duty. Told me if I won’t take a temporary partner, I’m on Leave of Absence! Well, fine! I don’t want to be there without Hutch anyway!

Came up with this silly idea, is what I did. Clean out Hutch’s car! And it sure needs it! How did it get this way in just the year or so he’s had it? It wasn’t like this when I presented it to him, after Roy Slater totaled his old one. 

Wait a minute! I was _in_ this back seat not that long ago, and I don’t remember it being this bad. Maybe I was so focused on what I was reading in that weeks-old newspaper, and then what he was talkin’ about, that I wasn’t really lookin’ at what all was here. He caught my attention, though, and I remember I’d hung over his shoulder when he claimed I wasn’t a good kisser. It shook me. How would he know something like that?

Oh well, I chalked it up to him trying to put a different slant on John Blaine’s death, and if that was what he needed to do, to get past the pain we both felt, that was fine with me. 

But he’d be home tomorrow, facing two weeks’ Convalescent Leave and, if he wanted to go somewhere in this thing, I’d make him sit in the passenger seat, and I’d drive him. And I was damned if I’d drive anything that had more junk in it than a thrift shop!

What’s this? A pipe rack. I think. Uncle Marvin smoked pipes and he had one of these. Okay, no pipes with it, might as well throw it in the trash can with all the empty coffee cups, used napkins, and brown paper bags. 

These Minnesota maps? They’re all out of date! Why would he want to keep maps that don’t show the new roads and highways? He likes history, sure, but I swear some of these could have been used by the Lewis and Clark expedition. 

A paint roller? So dried up it couldn’t possibly be used again. Where’s the pan it must have been with? Ah, there it is! Thick with dried paint, too. Trash! 

A dog-eared dictionary, three skinny paperback books, a school notebook that doesn’t have a word written in it… why does he keep this stuff?

Maybe… Maybe because every single thing, except the coffee cups, of course, means something to him. Maybe… Maybe I shouldn’t throw any of this stuff away. Who am I to say what he wants to keep and what he decides to throw out? If I do this, without asking, or telling him, he might just decide to throw _me_ away one of these days.

Hmmm, I better re-think this whole project. Hutch is the best friend, the best partner I could ever hope to find. He’s a little eccentric about some things, but I’m sure he’d say the same thing about me. We don’t have to have the same habits, the same likes and dislikes, in order to work together. Perfectly. And we do. 

Aw, hell! I’m gonna put all this junk back. Just the way I found it. Every piece of it probably means something to him. And I don’t have any right to throw it away. 

If he wants to go anywhere in this piece of… loved metal, I’ll drive him. And I won’t say a word about the back seat.

He means that much to me.

END


End file.
